An Escape of Material Proportions
by KP02
Summary: If you think Peter needs a new suit, Neal wouldn't do well with a different handler, and you want to see them at Christmas and Peter's birthday, this is the fanfic for you!
1. Chapter 1

An Escape of Material Proportions

**A/N: Sorry guys, I uploaded the wrong one! Hope you like this one just as much! Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Disclamer: I don't own any of these characters.**

Neal Caffrey leaned against the pillar of an expensive suit shop. He pulled back the sleeve of his black trench coat to look at his watch.

"Five, four, three-" He was cut off by skidding tires and flashing lights as three dark sedans slid into a small opening in front of the shop. The first one out of the cars was FBI agent Peter Burke. Neal grinned when he saw Peter's usual tacky suit. This was exactly why he was here.

"Hey Peter!" He said waving. "Your reaction time has gotten better." He commented, ignoring the dark glare Peter was giving him.

"Neal, tell me you didn't know you were out of your radius." He growled. Neal schooled his features into a straight face.

"I did not know I was out of my radius." He said carefully. Peter reached behind him for his ever-present handcuffs, but Neal held up one hand.

"Hold on. Before you cuff and stuff me, we are going to do what I came here to do." He said firmly. Peter paused, confusion spreading across his face. Neal gave a dramatic pause.

"We are going to buy you a new suit." He said with a flourish towards the front door.

Two hours later, Neal was standing by the dressing room door.

"How are you doing, Peter?" He asked, glancing at his watch. Peter had been in there for fifteen minutes. Only grunts answered him, then the door swung open, revealing Peter standing there, looking downright spiffy in the Armani suit. Neal let out a low whistle.

"Elle is going to like it." He said approvingly. Peter glared at him.

"Let's not bring my wife into this." He said. "And how am I supposed to pay for this?" He demanded, turning his head to try and see the price tag. Neal grinned, a sly grin and Peter groaned.

"Why did I even ask?" He wondered aloud. Neal laughed.

"I won't do anything illegal." He promised, pushing Peter into the dressing room.

Ten minutes later, they were at the checkout counter. After a little flirting with the cute blonde at the counter, Neal managed to get the suit and shirt 50% off.

"I really should take you to jail." Peter groused as they walked towards his car. Neal shrugged.

"Will you?" He asked cautiously. Peter glanced at him cautiously, sensing there was more to the question.

"Nope. Not worth the trouble." He replied. Neal glanced at him and grinned.

"Besides I just got you trained." Peter added as they got in the car, the large bag crowding the backseat. They headed back to the FBI building, ready to fight crime in style.


	2. Chapter 2

A Festival of Wine

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm going to try and keep going with the one-shots, and there will be NO Neal whumpage! Sorry, but the worst that might happen is he might get punched, but I'm not sure… It depends on how annoyed Peter gets. ****J**

Neal walked into the huge mansion, Peter and Elle right behind him. The two of them were dressed spiffily, as was Neal. Neal handed his invitation to the doorman, grateful that for once it wasn't forged. It paid to have connections. The trio made their way to the backyard, where discreet tables were set up with wine bottles and glasses were set up. Couples talked, businessmen pretended to like each other, and politicians argued. Neal breathed in the scent of the crowd, mixed with the flowery scent of wine.

"Remember, you are NOT to work the crowd. If I see any sign of it, we are leaving." Peter whispered in his ear the last time you came to a party to enjoy it?" She asked. He shrugged.

" '97?" He said. She linked firmly. Neal rolled his eyes.

"Peter, I'm not going to do anything but drink some wine and maybe meet a pretty girl." He replied, and headed towards a table with a voluptuous redhead next to it. Peter watched him go, then turned to Elle.

"I can't believe I let you two talk me into this." He said, tugging on his tie. Elle pulled at his arm.

"You need a break! When was her arm in his and practically dragged him towards a table with a white wine on it.

"C'mon. You're going to have fun." She said.

Two hours later, Peter was almost having too much fun. He was quite thoroughly drunk, along with about six other gentlemen. They were having a good time, throwing back glasses of wine with enthusiastic "Oompa!"'s. Neal stood on the sidelines with his arms crossed, and a small smile. He had never seen Peter like this, and planned to enjoy it to the fullest extent. Going over to the DJ, he requested a high energy dancing song, then pushed Elle towards Peter. She gave Neal a sly grin and the two of them started to show off moves that had probably never been seen before and definitely shouldn't have been invented. The rest of the partygoers soon joined them, staying a safe distance away so that Peter's dynamic dance moves wouldn't injure anyone. Meanwhile, Neal stood in the background, trying very hard not to laugh. It was almost as hard as the time that Mozzie had decided that aliens had built the Eiffel Tower.

However, he finally decided that he didn't want to completely humiliate Peter, so he signaled Elle and between the two of them, they managed to get Peter out of the party and into the car, which was no easy task. On the way home, Peter continued to sing.

"I'm walking on shunshine…" He said, loudly and quite off-key from the backseat. Neal and Elle looked at each other and smirked. He was not going to be feeling nearly as happy the next morning.

**The Next Day, At the office…**

Neal looked up when Peter walked in the door, apparently oblivious to all the amused looks he was getting. Neal grinned. He had told a few of the funnier highlights of the evening to a select few and somehow the whole office now knew about it.

"Mornin' Peter." He said when Peter glanced his way.

"Mornin'" Peter mumbled, coffee in hand and squinting down at his feet.

"You know, it's the weirdest thing. I have no clue what happened to my shoes, but they are really scuffed this morning." Peter said. Neal suppressed a grin.

"That is really weird." He replied seriously, then gave his full attention to the paperwork in front of him to hide his wide grin.

**I don't like this one as much as the last one, but it was in my head and the only way to get it out was to write it! ****J**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay! Another installment that I can get out of my head!**

**Stories: Maybe we don't want to get out of your head. **

**Me: tough, I'm writing you down anyways. :P**

**Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

Surprise!

Peter Burke walked into his darkened house and tossed his briefcase towards the nearby couch. When it missed, a muffled 'oomph' sounded. Immediately, he pulled his gun and pointed it in the general direction of the couch.

"Put your hands in the air." He ordered. A figure slowly stood, their hands raised. Peter quickly recognized him as Neal Caffrey from his hat. He lowered the gun.

"Neal, what are you doing in my house?" He demanded, annoyed. Neal flipped the light switch and grinned.

"Surprise!" He shouted along with the dozens of other people that seemed to pop from the floorboards. Peter groaned and glared at Neal.

"You did NOT plan a party for me." He said. Just then, his wife, Elle walked up and put her arms around his shoulders.

"No honey, I did. Don't blame poor Neal." She said. Peter rolled his eyes as Neal gave him a hurt puppy look.

"Yeah Peter, don't blame Neal." He said.

"Trust me, I blame Neal." Peter said, just before he was swarmed by a crowd of well-wishers. For the next few hours, he was busy shaking hands and greeting friends, some of which he hadn't seen since before he'd joined the bureau. As he was talking to Tony Glop about politics, they were interrupted by loud noises coming from the kitchen. Turning, Peter hoped it wasn't someone making trouble. An arrest was the last thing he wanted to do tonight. Luckily, it wasn't a troublemaker in that sense. Instead, it was Neal and Elle carrying the biggest, ugliest cake he had ever seen out of the kitchen. It appeared that they had fit forty-two candles on it. As Peter was still trying to take it all in, everyone started singing 'Happy Birthday'. He glowered at Neal, sure that the conman had something to do with the whole thing. However, Neal just sang louder than Peter thought humanly possible with a totally innocent look on his face. Peter grinned and attempted to blow out the candles, surprised at how much heat birthday candles put out. With a little help from Elle, he managed to get them all blown out with minimal teasing from all sides.

By the time the last guest had left, Peter had endured everything from heated discussions about politics to old college buddies wanting to 'get together and have some fun'. Peter shuddered to think what 'fun' those guys would think up. As soon as he closed the door on the last guest, he rounded on Elle.

"Why in the world did you plan a birthday party?" He asked. She smiled.

"Oh, you know you had a good time. And we haven't visited with some of those people in quite awhile." She replied. He shook his head.

"There's a reason for that." He said grimly, then started for the kitchen.

"Do you want some coffee?" He asked just before going through the door. Elle shook her head.

"No thanks." She replied. He went in and started to make himself a cup, then stopped when he noticed the plain white envelope on the counter. All that was on it was his name in flowing black script. As Peter stared at it, he was taken back to another time and place.

_Flashback: Peter walked into his office and was greeted by a white envelope on his desk. All it had on it was stamps and his name, as well as the FBI address._

"_I wonder who that's from." He muttered as he searched for his letter opener. Finally giving up, he used the pocket knife sitting in a drawer. When he opened it, he saw that it was a card. And not just any card, but a birthday card. He grinned, glancing around the office. He didn't know who had found out that it was his birthday, but it was rather nice. Then he opened it. "I hear you're chasing me." Was all it said inside. Immediately, he knew. Neal Caffrey was the only one he was investigating. Sitting back in his chair, he had to laugh at the conman's audacity. End of flashback._

Peter slowly picked up the envelope and opened it. Inside was a plain white card. When he flipped it open, four words were carefully scripted inside. "Mozzie picked the cake."

**That's all folks! (for now)**


	4. Chapter 4

**So, it's not great, but it was fun to write! **

**Disclaimer: I did one part from a USA commercial, but other than that the storyline is original. And of course, I don't own White Collar or any of the characters.**

Psychic Criminal?

Neal Caffrey leaned against a post, bored out of his mind. He was waiting for Peter to wrap up the debriefing from the last case involving a woman, a monkey, and a priceless painting. Glancing at his watch, he realized that he'd have to hurry if he was going to keep his dinner date with June. Sighing, he scribbled a note for Peter and took off. He knew there was one rule when you rented an apartment: keep the landlord happy.

When Neal walked into the mansion, the first thing he noticed were people's voices coming from the living room. At first, he thought it was just Mozzie and June, but then he realized it sounded nothing like Mozzie. In fact, whoever it was sounded like an idiot. After hanging his hat and scarf on the hat rack, he carefully made his way to the living room. What greeted him there was an interesting sight. Mozzie was all but hiding in the corner, sitting the chair the farthest away from the white and black men sitting on the sofa across from June. The white man looked a little like Robert Pattinson, only with proper nourishment, and the black man looked like any other black guy out on the streets. Neal pasted on his trademark smile and stepped into the room.

"Hey everyone, I'm home!" He said, leaning down and giving June a peck on the cheek.

"Hello Neal. I've just been having a delightful chat with your friend's cousin here." She said cheerily. Neal raised his eyebrow at the miserable-looking Mozzie and at the cheerful man on the sofa.

"Which one is his cousin?" He asked innocently. June laughed, a tinkling sound. Both men stood.

"Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. This is Hummer Putty." The white man said, extending a hand. Neal shook it with a grin.

"Neal Caffrey, art thief." He said, merely for the shock value. However, it didn't seem to faze them. The black man held out a hand.

"I'm Guster Burton. Not Hummer Putty." He said with a frown directed at Shawn. Neal shook his hand.

"Nice to meet both of you." He said politely, then sniffed the air. "June, it smells like dinner's about done. Why don't Mozzie and I go check that out?" He said, wanting to find out why Mozzie looked like his favorite dog had just gotten run over. Almost immediately, Mozzie got out of his chair and slunk towards the door, following Neal out.

"Neal, we have to get rid of him." Mozzie hissed as they walked towards the kitchen. Neal raised an eyebrow.

"Really? He seemed like a nice guy." Neal replied. Mozzie rolled his eyes.

"Oh sure. I've heard about Shawn my whole life. How nice he is, how smart he is, how many cases he's solved. The guy is a certifiable genius, but he acts like an idiot." He said. Neal tried to hide a grin.

"Just try to live with it for a little while. I'll even do a couple of things to them if you want." He offered. Mozzie perked up.

"Such as…" He left the sentence hanging. Neal smiled.

"Get their wallets for one." He answered. "I'm a little out of practice anyway." Mozzie grinned.

"Sounds good to me."

Later that night, they were sitting around the dinner table, eating the delicious roast chicken June's cook had created.

"So Neal, what exactly is it that you do?" Shawn asked in between bites of mashed potatoes. Neal sighed and dug around in his pocket, then held up a brown leather wallet. Shawn squinted at it, then realization dawned.

"Hey! That's my wallet!" He exclaimed. Across from him, Gus snickered, until Neal pulled out another wallet from his vest pocket.

"That one's mine!" Gus said angrily. Neal grinned and slid them both down the table.

"I'm a consultant for the FBI. Basically, they let me out of prison, and I help them solve crimes." He said easily, then pulled an asthma inhaler out of his pocket.

"By the way, is this one of yours?" He asked. Gus nodded slowly and Neal slid that down as well under June's reproving look.

"So do you get to carry a gun?" Shawn asked. Neal nodded.

"Yep." He said, taking a drink. June shook her head and chuckled.

"Oh no he doesn't." She countered.

"How about a badge?" Gus asked. Neal shrugged.

"Sure do." He replied.

"Sure don't." June muttered. Neal rolled his eyes.

"So, what's for dessert?" He asked, changing the subject.

After dinner, Neal excused himself and gave Peter a quick call.

"Neal, what do you want?" Peter asked, sounding annoyed.

"Sorry, did I interrupt something?" Neal asked, glancing back at the living room.

"You could put it that way." Peter replied, then sighed. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to know if you knew anything about two men named Shawn Spencer and Guster Burton." He said quietly.

"I've been waiting on those two for weeks! Are they with you?" Peter asked. Neal wrinkled his brow.

"Yeah, and you wouldn't believe who they're related to." He replied.

"I don't care who they're related to, they're have some of the highest crime-solving statistics ever. They are joining our department and I don't want any arguments from you." Peter said firmly.

"All right, but they are…" Neal tried to say, but was interrupted.

"I don't care if they're monkeys." Peter said, then hung up with a terse good bye. Neal glanced at the living room and rolled his eyes.

"Great. Now I have to listen to both of them complain." He muttered and went back out to the living room.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: A little more serious than the last one, but it was fun to write! Anyone out there got some ideas for predicaments for either Neal or Peter? I'm starting to run dry!

**Another Neal?**

**Neal Caffrey walked into the reception area of the FBI office, carrying two coffee cups. The receptionist, Heidi, smiled and waved at him. He nodded in return, then hit the elevator button with his foot. As soon as he walked into the office, Peter practically attacked him with questions.**

"**Do you know any teenagers?" He demanded. Neal handed him a coffee, shaking his head.**

"**Nope. At least not very well, if that's what you're asking. Why?" He replied. Peter shook his head, obviously frustrated. **

"**There's a sixteen year-old down in the waiting room that says he has to talk to Neal Caffrey and it's very important. When Heidi told him no, he tried to duck security. Now we have him in an interrogation room, but all he'll say is that he has to talk to you." He said, then started for the phone. "I'll just call down there and tell them to kick him out." Neal stopped him.**

"**Wait. I want to see why this kid wants to talk to me so badly." He said, curious. Peter shrugged.**

"**It seems like a waste of time to me." He replied. Neal grinned and took a sip of coffee.**

"**Hey, my job is to waste the bureau's time." He replied.**

**In Interrogation Room 2, Neal was faced with a nervous-looking teenager with bright blue eyes and dark red hair. **

"**So, I heard you wanted to see me." Neal said, sitting down in a cold metal chair, then looking around. "All of these rooms seem to look alike." He commented. The kid grinned, then leaned forward.**

"**I'm sorry I interrupted you at work, but I couldn't find your home address." He said earnestly. Neal raised his eyebrows.**

"**Why were you looking for me in the first place?" He asked. The kid took a deep breath.**

"**That's the hard part. My name is Marty Caffrey. I'm your brother." He said in complete seriousness. Neal shook his head.**

"**That's not even funny. There's no way you could be my brother." He said, then looked into Marty's eyes and had to let out his breath. He was looking into the exact same eyes he saw every morning in the mirror. When he looked Marty over, it was like seeing a replica of himself at that age. He was all arms and legs, with gangly good looks. The only difference was that Marty had red hair. Neal ran a hand through his hair. **

"**Look, I'll be right back." He said, then got up and all but ran out of the room. Peter met him on the other side of the door. **

"**You all right?" He asked, concerned. He had never seen the conman look this ruffled. Neal shook his head.**

"**Did you hear what he said?" Neal asked. Peter nodded.**

"**Every word." Was his answer. Neal groaned and rubbed his neck.**

"**Do you think it's true?" Was his next question. Peter shrugged.**

"**It's not for me to decide." He answered. Neal walked over and sat down on a bench. **

"**He looks like me and has Mom's hair." He said simply. Peter nodded, absorbing that.**

"**What does he want?" Peter asked. Neal looked up, disbelief clouding his eyes.**

"**I didn't even ask, I was so shocked. I haven't been shocked like that for years. I've always been one step ahead of everyone, and he truly shocked me." He said, then shook himself. "Ok. I'm going back." He said, his mask sliding firmly into place. He took a deep breath, then walked through the door, trying his best not to look into Marty's eyes.**

"**What do you want?" Neal asked, sitting back down. Marty shrugged.**

"**I don't know. Mom and Dad died in a car wreck. I wanted my only brother to know I was alive before I headed off somewhere." He replied, then stood. "Listen, it was a mistake to come here. You obviously don't care and I've gotta start making a life of my own." Neal raised a brow.**

"**And what is that life going to involve?" He asked. Marty glanced at the camera hung conspicuously, then shrugged.**

"**I'm not sure." he replied. Neal shook his head.**

"**Take it from the guy wearing a tracking anklet. You will get caught doing that." He said, then stood. "How about you stay with me for awhile? I live with someone who has a few extra rooms and loves kids." He said. Marty perked up.**

"**Really? That would be awesome!" He said, then started for the door. Neal followed him out. **

"**Wait here." He said, then walked over to Peter.**

"**Let me guess, you need some time off." Peter said. Neal nodded.**

"**C'mon Peter, he's my brother. And I think he might be a neat kid." He said. Peter rolled his eyes.**

"**I guess the department can afford to lose you for a little while. Just don't take too long." He said, then started for the elevators. Neal waved good-bye, then turned to where Marty had started to flirt with Heidi. He grinned. This was definitely his brother.**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, any good ideas on humorous predicaments for Neal (or Peter) to get into? I'm slightly stuck. For this one, I decided to go with a sweeter Christmas story. There is still some humor though! ****J **

**Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar, the characters, or anything but this storyline.**

Jingle Bells…

Neal Caffrey rang the doorbell to Peter's house and waited, attempting to pull his coat around him without dropping his many packages.

"C'mon, open up." He muttered, checking his watch. It was exactly 6:00, right when Peter had said to be there for Christmas dinner. It was just starting to sleet when Elizabeth opened the door.

"Neal! Come in, here let me help you with that." She said, trying to take the wine bottle he had tightly clenched in one hand. Neal shook his head frantically.

"No, no! If you take one thing, it all comes down!" He said with a smile. She laughed and led him to the kitchen.

"Here, put it right on the counter." She said. As Neal was unloading his arms, Peter walked in.

"Peter! Merry Christmas!" He said cheerfully. Peter smiled, buttoning his shirt sleeves.

"Merry Christmas Neal." He replied, then looked around. "I take it Mozzie didn't want to come." He said ruefully. Neal grinned.

"He muttered something about luring him in." Neal said, then motioned towards the small mountain of gift-wrapped packages on the counter.

"So, where do the gifts go?" He asked.

"The tree is in the living room." Elle answered. Neal gathered up the packages and took them to living room, where a tiny tree was set up with a few lights. He shook his head.

"Peter, you need a different tree." He called back, then started to set the packages around it, arranging them so that it made the tree slightly less pathetic. Elle wandered in to watch him halfway through.

"You know Neal, you really didn't have to get us anything. We didn't expect it." She said softly. Neal stopped what he was doing and turned to look at her.

"I wanted to." He said simply. "Last year I was crashing a Christmas party. It feels good to be invited for once." She nodded, then Peter walked in.

"Ok, the table is set honey." He said with no little satisfaction. She smiled and pecked his cheek.

"Thank you." She said, then started back towards the kitchen.

"Make sure to use that wine! Mozzie griped enough about me taking it that you'd think I was taking his favorite Ra-painting." Neal called after her, shooting a look at Peter. Peter ignored him, taking a sudden interest in a wreath.

After dinner, they all gathered around in the living room to exchange presents. Peter and Elizabeth both had three packages, and Neal had two in front of him.

"Peter, you go first." Neal said, practically bouncing in his seat. Peter grinned and picked up the smallest one. When he ripped off the wrapping, he found a slim wooden case. Inside the case was a finely engraved pen.

"Neal, this is gorgeous." He said, holding it up and studying the intricate vines trailing up it.

"Thanks." Neal replied distractedly, then pointed to a large box in front of Elle.

"Open that one." He ordered with a smile. Peter and Elle exchanged amused looks as she picked up the package and took off the wrapping.

"Oh my." She said as she pulled an exquisite blue and white vase out of the box. "Neal, this is just beautiful." She said, turning it to admire the light coming through the glass. He grinned.

"Thank you. I worked hard to find it." He said. She motioned to his packages.

"Open one of yours!" She said excitedly. He studied them, then took the smaller one of the two. He slowly unwrapped it, savoring every moment.

"Wow, this is great!" He said, pulling a brown leather wallet out of the packaging. Elizabeth grinned.

"Look inside." She said. Neal opened it and grinned. Pinned to the inside was a kid's sheriff badge.

"Awesome!" He said, pinning the badge to his shirt.

Four presents and one pie later, Neal was saying good night. After he had left, Elle went to her husband's arms.

"His presents were so sweet." She said, considering the painting now hung over the mantel. Peter smiled.

"I just hope he didn't get them from Mozzie." He commented.

**So, I was listening to Christmas music and started thinking…This was what happened!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I've been wanting to do something like this for awhile, but when I started writing it, I realized it's going to be a two-part installment. Enjoy!**

Different Agents ~ Part 1

As soon as Neal Caffrey walked into the FBI office, he knew something was different, and it wasn't just the paint fumes wafting through the air that told him.

"What's going on?" He questioned Jones, who was standing just inside, looking up at the higher-ups offices.

"Hughes is trying to move Peter. He wants to replace him with a different agent." Jones replied, never tearing his gaze away from the upstairs. Neal raised an eyebrow.

"Really." He said musingly, wondering what would happen to him if Peter did move. Now Jones glanced at him.

"You'd stay with us. That's why Peter's fighting it so hard." He said seriously. Neal nodded.

"Thanks Jones." He said, walking towards his desk. He needed to call Mozzie.

Three phone calls later, Peter stood on the balcony and double-finger pointed at Neal. Neal held up one finger and quickly finished his phone call, then took the stairs two at a time upstairs.

"What's up Peter?" He asked, his trademark grin safely in place. Peter didn't smile back, instead he slammed his hand down on the desk.

"They're moving me to a different department." He said grimly. Neal shrugged.

"That's fine. I'll just pack up my desk." He said. Peter shook his head.

"That's the thing. You're not coming." He said. Neal closed his eyes briefly, then shook his head.

"Listen, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. You just do your best at your new job." He said, his smile in place once more.

As Peter looked at him, he could almost believe that the conman didn't care. But he knew Neal better than that. He sighed heavily.

"I'm going to fight this." He said, determined. Neal shook his head.

"I'll handle it. I'm a conman remember? The one who always gets his way?" He replied. Peter shook his head.

"Neal, you can't do anything illegal. You will go to jail and it will be my job to arrest you." He said. Neal grinned.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything illegal." He said, his mind already spinning.

Two weeks later, the move was final. Peter was getting moved to Washington. However, Neal wasn't giving up easily. Either he was moving with Peter, or he was moving Peter back to New York. The only problem was his anklet, and that was easy to fix. He flipped open his cell phone, and dialed, grateful for the people around him that would mute the conversation to where the two men tailing him couldn't hear it.

"Hey Mike! Know anything about tracking anklets?" He asked, looking up at the planes flying overhead.

An hour later, Neal was a free bird. His tracking anklet told the new agent that he was sitting at home, not doing anything. In truth, he was actually was at home, but he wouldn't be for long. He had learned where the agent's home was, and his plan was to make his life a living hell for a little while. He grinned at Mozzie, who was reclined on the couch, a wine glass in his hand.

"What do you think?" He asked, spreading his hands. He was dressed in all black, complete with a ski mask. Mozzie raised his glass.

"Here's to the crazies." He said dryly, then looked down at his ankle. "By the way, when am I getting this dumb thing off? It rubs." He complained. Neal rolled his eyes and started for the door.

"As soon as I get back." He promised, then slipped out the door.

At the agent's house, he slipped behind trees and bushes, absentmindedly humming the batman theme song. He grinned when he saw the automatic light in front of the garage.

"Wimpy security." He muttered and stepped behind another tree. Immediately, lights and sirens went off. Neal looked around, shocked. He had not seen this coming.

**Bet you didn't see this coming! Mwahahaha! **


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry it took so long to get this out, but I had a lot going on! Happy Thanksgiving! ****J**

Different Agents~ Part 2

Neal leaned his chair back against the cell wall and started counting the cracks in the ceiling. He had only been in prison for two days and it was already even more boring than it had been before. He was surprised when a guard came to unlock his door.

"Caffrey, visitor." He said gruffly. Neal let his chair down and walked out. In the visitors room, he saw an irritated-looking Peter Burke. He waved.

"Hey Peter." He called. Peter walked over and grabbed his arm, waving off the guard. He slammed Neal down on the bench seat and stood over him.

"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded. Neal shrugged, rubbing his arm.

"I told you I'd take care of it." He sulked. Peter ran a hand through his hair.

"You also said that you wouldn't break the law." He countered. Neal rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't going to get caught. The guy just had better security than I thought." He said, hating to admit that. He was getting soft with all of this time away from the game. "Besides, it worked didn't it? You're back in New York."

"Well, yeah, but Hughes doesn't know if it will be permanent. Only if you agree to do exactly what I tell you to." Peter replied. Neal shrugged.

"Sure no problem." He said. Peter looked at him with shock. Neal grinned.

"I trust you Peter. You're not gonna tell me to go stick my head down a toilet or anything like that." He said, then stood up. "Are we done here? The sooner you leave, the sooner I get out of here." He said, hiding any emotion he had behind a smile. Peter stepped aside, apparently still in shock. Neal walked behind the guard, hands in his jumpsuit pockets, whistling. Peter shook his head as he watched the conman go. Just about when he thought he had Neal figured out, he pulled something like that.

Within two weeks, Neal was back at the office.

**Haha! Bet you weren't expecting that… Ok, so maybe there's a slight slash, but I'm not sure….Hmmm…. Anyways, please review and tell me what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**How did Neal and Mozzie meet? I was wondering about that and thought, 'hey! I should write a fanfic about it!' So I did! Enjoy!**

Opposites Attract

Neal Caffrey walked into the meeting place, exactly on time and without a hair out of place despite the wild ride to the small café. He glanced around and quickly found the man he was meeting, sitting at a corner booth. He slid onto the bench seat, his trademark smile in place. The man looked up. He was one of the men who paired thieves and fences. Since Neal's last fence had gone another route, as in, six foot under, he needed a new one. Neal was interrupted from his thoughts by the man sliding a card with seven digits on it across the table.

"Here's his number." The man said. Neal picked up the card and put in his vest pocket.

"Thanks." He said, then stood. However, the man stopped him.

"Listen this guy…He's a little paranoid. Just call me if it doesn't turn out well and I'll find you someone else." He said. .Neal nodded, feeling confident that this relationship was doomed to fail. He hated paranoid people and always had. He sighed and walked out of the café. At least he'd had a decent cup of coffee.

Two hours later, Neal stood in a park, under a giant oak tree, feeling like a royal idiot. On the other side of the tree was a short, bald man who was insisting they play rhyming games before they could see each other. He was about to start banging his head against the tree when the man came around.

"Finally." Neal breathed, then stuck out his hand. "Neal Caffrey." He said, hoping to at least salvage a little of his pride. The man looked at his hand as though it was a dead fish, then looked back up.

"You can just call me Mozzie." He said, then cleared his throat. "So, what do you need?" He asked. Neal smiled.

"I thought you'd never ask." He said. The two of them walked away, talking. Neal had a feeling that this could be the beginning of a beautiful…partnership.

**Kind of random, but I had fun! Again, Happy Thanksgiving!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok, so this one is a little sweeter, but still has a few funny parts… I was bored. And I looked up writing prompts and thought of this… ****J**** Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own White Collar or anything affiliated with it.**

One Sick Puppy

It was half-past two when the paper clips revolted. Neal Caffrey looked down at his desk drawer in dismay. How did paper clips manage to get so many places? He sighed and tried to extract a pen, but ended up making it worse, and spilling some of the paper clips on the floor. Bending over, he picked them up and tossed them back in the drawer and groaned. His head had been hurting all day and the bending over was not helping. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes just for a few seconds.

"Neal. Neal! Neal wake up!" A voice was intruding on Neal's deep sleep. He shook his head, then groaned with the pain. Opening his eyes, he saw Peter standing over him with a concerned look on his face.

"Neal, what are you doing?" Peter demanded. Neal squinted against the bright fluorescent light, then looked down at the papers scattered on his desk.

"Um, it looks like I'm researching something." He said carelessly, wishing the little dwarves in his head would stop hammering. Peter glared at him.

"That's it, you're going home and going to bed." He said. Neal shook his head, gritting his teeth against the inevitable pain.

"Nope. I'm not sick." He said stubbornly. Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Don't make me get out the handcuffs." He threatened. Neal groaned.

"Fine. I'll go home." He said with a sullen look. Peter watched as he gathered his things and only waited until Neal had disappeared into the elevator to call June.

When Neal got home, June was waiting at the door, cough medicine in one hand and a tablespoon in the other. He paused on the steps, seriously considering yelling for the cab to come back. However, he knew that she had a gun by the door and wouldn't hesitate to use it to make him come back. He slowly made his way inside and hung up his scarf and hat, then turned to face June.

"I'm not sick." He said. June shook her head.

"Don't try that with me. That's what my husband always said, and he had that same look on his face, like he was mad at the world." She said in a no nonsense tone. "Now drink two tablespoons of this." She ordered, holding out the bottle and the spoon. Neal reluctantly did as he was told, grimacing as he did so.

"There. Now can I go sleep?" He asked. She nodded, and let him go up the staircase. Neal slowly made his way up it and groaned when he heard strains of Mozart coming from it.

"Mozzie, I need some sleep." He said as he opened the door.

"That's exactly why I'm here." The short man replied from the area that Neal considered his kitchen. Neal sniffed the aroma of chicken and salt through his clogged nostrils.

"You cook?" He asked in amazement. Mozzie assumed a hurt look.

"Yes I cook. Or at least, I cook soup." He replied. Neal shrugged and collapsed on the couch without even taking off his shoes. Within minutes he was asleep, content in the knowledge that he had friends who cared about him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, just a really short drabble…I promise, more will come soon! School is crazy! ****J**

Neal watched with amusement as Peter struggled with the packaging of a new flashlight.

"How are you supposed to open these things?" Peter said, slamming it down on the table. Neal grinned and reached for it.

"Do you have a knife?" He asked. Peter raised an eyebrow at him. Neal rolled his eyes.

"What, you think I could take on the entire FBI office with a pocket knife?" He asked. Now it was Peter's turn to roll his eyes.

"If anyone could, it would be you." He muttered, handing over a folding knife. Neal smiled and got to work on the package. In thirty seconds, he had it open. Peter took the flashlight.

"It would take a thief to open it." He said. Neal grinned.

"Who do you think buys most of those things?" He asked. Peter laughed.

"You mean, other than Mozzie?" He asked.

"Let's just say Mozzie has helped the flashlight market a lot." Neal replied. Peter sighed as a battery fell to the floor.

"What's next, you have to be a magician to load the batteries?" He grumbled. Neal just held out one hand.


	12. Chapter 12

**All right, I just watched All In from the first season, so I decided to write this! Enjoy, and please review! Thanks govgal for all of the reviews, as well as everyone else! (I can only remember govgal right now, so sorry!)**

Tiles of Fire

When Neal walked into his apartment, he was greeted with the sounds of bad Chinese music and laughter. Shrugging out of his jacket, he peered around the corner to where Mozzie and June were sitting on the couch, watching a corny movie on TV. When he cleared his throat, both of them looked up.

"Why, hello there Neal." June said with a smile. Neal nodded at the dignified lady.

"Hey. Um, what are you guys doing?" He asked. Mozzie shrugged.

"I asked you a few weeks ago if you minded me inviting June up for a marathon. You said it was fine." He said innocently. Neal raised a brow.

"Was I working a case?" He asked. Mozzie turned back to the TV.

"Oh, this is the best part!" He exclaimed. Neal ran his fingers through his hair, then dragged over a kitchen chair and sat down in it. It couldn't be that bad, right?

By the time June and Mozzie were getting ready to put the second part in, Neal was ready to beg for mercy. He excused himself and walked out onto the balcony. There was only one thing to do, and he hated doing it. He flipped open his phone and started dialing.

Peter groaned when his cell phone rang.

"I hope that's not the FBI." Elizabeth called from the kitchen.

"I hope it's not to." Peter muttered. When he saw the caller id, he was surprised. "Why is Neal calling?" He wondered aloud before answering. "Yeah." He said.

"Peter, you've got to help me." Neal's voice came over. Instantly, Peter was alert and ready.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"It's Mozzie and June." Neal replied, "They decided to have some sort of movie marathon, and it's driving me insane! I swear, I will do mortgage fraud cases, or anything else without complaining, if you just get me out of here!" Peter had to smile.

"Let me get this straight." Peter said, "Mozzie and June have taken over your apartment, and I'm the only one you can call?" He asked.

"Unless you think Jones would help." Was Neal's desperate reply. Peter shook his head.

"I'll be over in five."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So, I haven't updated in awhile…Like a few months. Would a heartfelt apology do any good? *smiles sheepishly***

**Always Winter**

"Peter, it's snowing." Neal complained, looking out of his partner's office window. Peter didn't look up from the file.

"Yeah, that's what happens in the winter." He said absentmindedly. Neal sat in his chair and crossed his arms.

"I hate snow." He growled. Peter looked up.

"You seemed to like it on Christmas." He said. Neal rolled his eyes.

"That's because it was Christmas." He explained. Peter nodded.

"Oh yeah. That makes sense." He said. Neal sighed and stared at the falling flakes out the window.

"Always winter, never Christmas." He muttered. Peter held up a finger.

"Tolkien, right?"

"Nope. C. S. Lewis." Peter shrugged.

"Close enough." he said. Neal shook his head.

"You have no appreciation for art." He accused. Peter grinned.

"Says the art thief."

"Hypothetically, if I stole art, wouldn't that mean that I appreciate it?" Neal fired back. Peter crossed his arms.

"So, because I protect the art, I don't appreciate it?"

"We're working mortgage fraud." Neal said dryly. Peter half-smiled.

"Touché."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! So, my White Collar withdrawal is getting really bad… Just in case you hadn't noticed. **

**Babysitters**

Neal watched from the doorway as Peter tried to assemble a fan. "I think you've got the thingy backwards." He said helpfully. Peter just glared. "I know what I'm doing." He growled. Neal nodded. "Right. So why am I here again?" He asked. Peter sighed.

"You are here because I told you to be." He replied. Neal nodded.

"Right. Well, when you're done with that, I'll be in the kitchen with Elizabeth. She promised to make me a sandwich." He said, then was gone before Peter could say a word.

"So, Peter wants me to help him keep eleven ten year-olds from running wild?" Neal clarified. Elizabeth nodded. "Impossible." Neal said, then popped a chip in his mouth. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you can do it. You'd be good with kids." She said. Neal grinned and shook his head. "No, I'm not." He replied, in the tone people use when they are remembering something. Elizabeth grinned and leaned against the kitchen counter. "All right, what happened?" She questioned. Neal smiled. "I was in Bangkok for various reasons, and ended up having to babysit five American kids. It was terrible." He said, shaking his head, "They didn't do anything I said, the guys kept hitting the girls, and they ended up throwing toys at me." He finished with a slight shudder. By now Elizabeth was barely holding back a laugh. "So, are you gonna tell Peter?" She asked. He grinned. "Are you kidding? This is gonna be better than cable!" He said. Now Elizabeth was practically in tears, she was laughing so hard. She laughed just as hard later that night when the eleven boys leapt on Peter and Neal, then wrestled the two grown men to the ground.


	15. Chapter 15

**Power Outage**

It was the third inning in the championship when the power shut off. Peter let out a loud groan.

"No way!" He complained. this was going to be his day off. Elle wasn't home, he had no cases, it would just be him, the game, and a good beer. But now this power outage had ruined it. Now he was mad. He picked up his phone and started making phone calls.

Fifteen minutes later, the power still wasn't on and everyone he knew was busy. Well, not everyone, but he dreaded going to that option. After contemplating it, he finally picked up the phone and hit speed dial 3. Neal was having a pretty good day. He had finished one painting and was starting another. It was peaceful in his apartment, until the phone rang. He wiped his hands on a rag, then picked up the phone.

"Neal." He said. "Hey, you doing anything? The power's out over here." Peter's voice came over the line.

"Well, it's-"

"Great, I'll be over in a few." Peter cut him off, then hung up. Neal set the phone down and shook his head. Peter was going to be mad when he found out he couldn't watch the game here either. The power was out, but he could paint with natural light. Neal went back to his painting, still smiling

**I like reviews. Reviews make me write faster… And I have another one in mind involving a kitten. It's gonna be good! But only if I get reviews. :P**


	16. Chapter 16

**Ok, so I decided to do another one with Marty, just because the idea of Neal being a guardian to anyone intrigues me. Enjoy! ****J**

Suspended

Neal Caffrey sat in the most boring meeting of all time, wondering how he could get out. His deliverance came in the form of his phone going off, making his whole leg shake. He suppressed a grin and quietly slipped out. He didn't recognize the number, but at this point, he'd take anything he could get. He flipped the phone open.

"Hello." He said.

"Hello, is this Mr. Caffrey?" A business-like voice asked on the other line.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" He asked, willing to do just about anything for the person that had gotten him out of the meeting.

"You are needed here at the school. Your brother has gotten into some trouble." She said. He closed his eyes.

"What kind of trouble?" He asked, dreading the answer. There was a long pause.

"You just need to come down here." She said, then quickly hung up. Neal closed his phone slowly and shook his head. Peter was going to kill him.

Half an hour later, he and Peter walked into the school and immediately spotted Marty sitting on a bench, playing with something in his hands. He quickly shoved it into his pocket when he saw the pair and stood.

"Listen, whatever they tell you I did, I have proof I didn't do it." He said convincingly. Peter rolled his eyes.

"I've never heard that before." He said under his breath. Neal shot him a look, then turned back to Marty.

"I have to get this cleared up. Where's the principal?" He asked.

"I am right here." A voice boomed behind him. Neal slowly turned to see the biggest man he had ever seen. His chest was probably as big as a small tree, and he was at least 6'6". Neal held out one hand, forcing a smile.

"Hello, Principal…" He trailed off. He was sure he had never heard the principal's name in the two months Marty had been going to the school.

"I'm Principal Jacobs." The man boomed, shaking Neal's hand. "Let's go into my office and we can talk this over." He said, sending Marty a look that you generally didn't want from someone that size, then walking through a door, leaving Neal and Peter to follow. Marty got up as though to go, but Neal gave him a look as though to say that he had better stay there or risk death. Then he walked through the door of doom.

Marty watched the closed door, nervously fingering the ball in his pocket. What would Neal do? Every other person he'd stayed with would have thrown him out on the spot. He jumped when the door opened and Neal came out, Peter following closely. Neal had a shell-shocked look on his face, while Peter was merely amused. The door all but slammed behind them. Marty stood, his hands in his pockets.

"So, how'd it go?" He asked nonchalantly. Neal scowled at him.

"You're suspended for the next week." He said. Marty grinned.

"And that's a bad thing?" He replied. He could hang out with June and Mozzie. However, Neal obviously thought it was a very bad thing.

"Yes Marty, it's a bad thing. That means that I either have to stay home with you, or I have to take you to the office with me." Neal said wearily. Marty shrugged.

"I'm fifteen. I can stay home alone." He said. Neal gave him a look of disbelief.

"You brought a monkey to school. Do you really think I'll trust home alone?" He asked. Marty shrugged.

"The guy said it was perfectly trained." He muttered. Neal just rolled his eyes and led the small entourage out the door.

**So that's it… For now… Probably. Please review! If you want more with Marty, or just a continuance of this one, please tell me! Thanks for reading! J**


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